That's a shame
by spadetje
Summary: Turks fic. Focuses on Reno, Elena, Rude, bit Rufus, and their daily struggles. Smoke.
1. i smoke

**By:** spadetje  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own final fantasy vii, whatev.  
**A/N: **Though I'm wondering if just uploading chapter 4 would be better, I decided to just do the whole thing. However, enjoy.  
  
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**i. smoke.**  
  
The small particles of carbonic matter swirling in the late morning air, the exhaust from the burning of an organic material like a cigarette.  
  
The nicotine, his tobacco heaven whirled around him as the wind picked up. He inhaled deeply, feeling the brief enjoyment as the milligram of the drug rushed to his brain.  
  
He stared at the smoke as he pulled it away from his mouth, letting a whoosh of nicotine fog into the polluted air of Midgar and closed his eyes. He loved the smell, the musky, burnt scent that buried in his clothes and home and remained no matter how many times he washed or sprayed them. Not that he could get away from the stench anyway. In Midgar - and especially his apartment location - open a window and a flood of smoke would come pouring in, soaking everything with the industrial scent he found so familiar.  
  
_Nothing like a good smoke before work._  
  
Shinra let him smoke inside, but smoking inside meant working inside as well. He gave a mere glance to his watch and read the time. He was a bit late, and that was perhaps an understatement.  
  
But he justified his spiteful smoke outside his building with his overwork last night.  
  
Leaving a short butt on the ground, accompanying his many others, Reno opened the company doors and stepped inside the elevator. On the ride up the sixty floors, all he could think about was the relaxing puffs and the amount of paperwork he would have to write up today about his recent mission.  
  
Sliding his card into place and hearing the usual electronic beep, he lazily stumbled into the Turk's lobby. Not noticing the extra figure in the room, he ambled over to the coffeepot and almost automatically started to pour.  
  
He almost didn't hear the angry clearing throat behind him, but something made him turn around. He then noticed the two dark suits outlining the trademark white suit of his superior. Rude was standing on the left, his shades down and his usual expressionless facade on although Reno could tell this placid face meant something was up. Elena, on the right was looking at the middle figure desirously, as though he were a piece of meat - the man clad in white never noticing. Reno gritted his teeth at this, and then focused his attention to the middle figure, President Rufus Shinra.  
  
He had a gut feeling whatever this solemn stance was, it wasn't good. Rufus took a few steps towards him and crossed his arms.  
  
"I've had enough of you. In my office. Go."  
  
Shrugging, Reno set his coffee down on the counter near him and followed his boss up the elevator and into his office. He took the seat across from the big desk naturally, and pulled out a cigarette. Lighting up, the president across from him sneered at him disdainfully.  
  
"What were you doing before you waltzed in here?"  
  
"Is this an interrogation?" Reno looked up in thinking mockery, letting little puffs of smoke out. He picked his fag from his mouth and stared at Rufus. "Well, I woke up, had a smoke, walked down here, had another smoke, and..." he tapped the ashes into Rufus' tray in front of him, "here's my third."  
  
"You're telling me I'm paying you to smoke and sleep?"  
  
Reno frowned at this, biting his lip not to say he'd be doing that even if he _was_ here, but instead he smoothly took a long drag on his smoke.  
  
Rufus leaned forward and stared intimidating at the man in font of him. "I know you've worked for my father longer than you've worked for me, but listen kid, I'm running the company now and I don't tolerate late workers. _Especially_ my late Turks." He leaned back and tilted his head to the side at the unmoved redhead. "I don't want to see you late again. Because when I fire my workers, I don't fire them in the metaphorical sense." He glanced toward the wall, bringing Reno's gaze with him at his signature shotgun leaning against a filing cabinet.  
  
Reno raised his arms and crushed his butt into the ashtray. "Alright, chief, it won't happen again."  
  
"Good. Now get out of my office."  
  
As he slid his card into the elevator's slot, Reno gritted his teeth angrily. _Stupid brat, he's probably the youngest one in the building and yet he's the bloody president. Runs this place like it's a goddamned boot camp._  
  
The Turk's lobby was empty, so he assumed when Rude and Elena had heard the irate in the President's voice, they'd ran off to their office to save their job. Sighing, he took his cold coffee into his office and sat down to work on the scads of papers decorating his desk.  
  
--  
  
_Reno was walking across an empty parking lot. The pavement was wet as if it had recently rained, and there was a small emporium that he was walking toward. He couldn't see where the little store was connected to, or if it were connected to anything at all, but he made his way across the lot and up to the counter.  
  
The yellow light beamed down on the employee inside, who faced the opposite direction of him. Glancing up, he looked at what was on sale.  
  
Whiskey, £3  
Cigarettes, £2  
Your Choice, --  
  
"My choice?" Reno asked, grinning as the lady turned around. "How much does that cos-"  
  
He stopped talking as the woman at the counter turned all the way around, revealing his cohort Turk, Elena, clad in only a blue bra and knickers. Raising an eyebrow as she walked over to the counter, smiling seductively and untying her hair, letting it drape down across her shoulders.  
  
"Your choice, Reno." She sighed as she lifted herself onto the counter_. Just as he was about to embrace her, he was awoken rudely by the wailing of his alarm.  
  
Rolling over lazily, he slapped the beeping device until it ceased, then rolled back over.  
  
"What the _hell_?" he muttered to himself at the dream, about to drift back to his relaxing unconsciousness when he suddenly remembering his previous day with the president. Jumping out of bed, he felt fatigue hit him like a sack of potatoes and wished he were back in bed asleep.  
  
Popping a cigarette in his mouth, he struggled to get on his suit he'd thrown on the ground last night. He glanced at the clock and realized he would have to call a cab to get to work on time.  
  
An angry five minutes later, he was on the side of the road taking a long drag as a taxi pulled over. Throwing the butt on the ground, Reno hopped inside.  
  
"Shin-Ra building, please." On the small ride over he realized he would be about five minutes early._ Better be happy, Prez._  
  
Paying the cabbie, the Turk hurried up to the sixtieth floor and into the Turk's lobby. Rude was slumped over the newspaper, asleep like usual, and Reno gave him a jolt as he walked by to the coffeepot. The tiredness was weighing in on him and he drank another cup after finishing the first one.  
  
After his caffeine addiction was satisfied, his nicotine fix was begging him to light another cigarette. Pulling out his pack, he lit up as the door opened and a young lady in a nicely pressed suit stepped inside the room. Reno grinned as he took a long, satisfying drag.  
  
--


	2. ii office propinquity

  
  
**ii. office propinquity**  
  
Waving away the smoke, Elena crumpled her face into an expression of disgust as she stepped inside the room. _Smoke_, she thought disdainfully. _I'm going to smell like smoke now for the rest of the day. _  
  
She ignored the grin and drifting eyes from her red-haired colleague and muttered a greeting as she headed for the coffeepot.  
  
"Right on time," she heard Reno note as she poured the cup, "as usual."  
  
She watched the steaming black liquid flow into her mug and breathed in the familiar scent, the bitter aroma soothing her caffeine addiction almost immediately. Turning around, she noticed Rude silently sitting at the table sipping on a cup. He often came a half an hour early and spent the extra time sleeping in the lounge until one of the other Turks woke him up.  
  
"I'm surprised you're here then. Early too, if I'm right on time."  
  
He was still grinning at her raised eyebrows. Without removing the cigarette from his lips he snorted, the smoke drafting upwards in decayed ribbons.  
  
"The President was on my ass."  
  
The President. At the mentioning of his name, a detailed image of the young man came into her mind. Tall, blonde, with an intimidating stare. White pressed suit, business air about him. _Very_ handsome with his smooth skin and cold blue eyes, eyes that when swept across the room critically and landed on her for a micro-second, everything flew out the window. All the piling reports and papers were gone, the wrinkles and creases smoothed out of her suit, her missions had and done with...but that was only a micro-second, and in the time that would succeed, all her problems would filter back in.  
  
Elena shrugged and walked out of the lobby room, coffee still in hand. The Turks never talked much during the morning, each one commonly exhausted from overworking the previous night. And even if not, Elena wasn't much of a morning person as it were.  
  
She stepped into her office and noticed there were papers already laying on top of her desk. Sighing and skimming over the papers, she smiled at the signature at the bottom.  
  
_Rufus Shinra, President of Shinra Electric Company._  
  
When she'd first gotten hired, all the secretaries and other women working here had warned her about him and his charming cold looks. She hadn't thought anything of it until he had called her up to his office to officially meet his new Turk. It hit her like a sack of potatoes.  
  
The first thing she'd thought stepping into that big room at the top was _my god he's gorgeous.  
_  
She sighed at her daily routine. As her infatuation for her boss grew, her morning grooming had multiplied. Get up an hour before daylight to re-iron her suit, frustratingly slamming the iron on permanent wrinkles, permanent no matter the lengths she'd taken to remove them.  
Then first she would shower, but rub sweet-smelling lotion just in case, then add the hairspray and mousse to dry while she made-up. 40 minutes in front of the mirror, she would be barely satisfied looking as a beauty exemplar and then it was time to press the hair. Perfume - the same scent as her lotion of course - no mixing scents, re-paint and shape the nails and finally another re-iron in her underwear.  
  
It was silly, to sit in an office made-up as if going to a ball.  
  
But it made up for it when she passed him in the hall, raising her arm pretending to scratch her neck trying to cover the crease she could never iron from her suit. He'd walk by briskly, not even glancing at her but she'd notice his perfectly white ensemble, slicked back blonde hair with a single lock hanging in the front. Her knees would weaken when she caught a scent of whatever cologne or spray he used and she'd walk back to her office in a daze where she would daydream accidentally until Reno or Rude would toss in another pile of work to be done.  
  
Today was naturally one of those days, and Elena sat at her desk with a pen idly in her hands as she stared out the window engulfed in a delusive fantasy, when she heard the intercom blare.  
  
"Elena, have those reports to me in a half an hour."  
  
When she'd first gotten hired, she remembered subtly changing her watch to the exact second of his, glancing at his phone-held wrist and acting as though she was only restlessly fidgeting. As she had done with previous jobs, showing up ten seconds before the requested time and smiling as the authority nods at his raised wrist.  
  
She had already done the reports last night. Bumbling evidence about the Sector 7 crash and how Shinra had gotten around the fault of it all. She had found the incident a shame, really.  
  
A half an hour later she stepped up to the President's door, the gray sliding automatic entry looming in front of her. She glanced at her watch. A half a minute to compose herself. Breathing in hard, she straightened her suit and cleared her throat. _Wait. Wait. _15 seconds. 10.  
  
She knocked and anticipated his answer. Nothing.  
  
"Mr. President?"  
  
Nothing. She frowned and glanced at her watch. 2 seconds. She didn't want to be late, so she stepped inside the door, it opening for her and displaying the top floor of the building.  
  
The young man lay slumped on his desk, head buried in arms, save his right hand holding a signing pen. The pen slack on a forty-five degree angle between his fingers, displaying the relaxed position of the president.  
  
The familiarity of the scene startled Elena, her heart flying to her throat. _He didn't croak like his old man, there...?_ But as she walked closer, shaking, she realized in relief and slight embarrassment that he was only...asleep. Her breath rose and she swallowed hard. She was unsure of what to do; he had called her up here and she needed to talk to him about the reports, but if she woke him would he be angry? He looked awfully cute, laying there like that.  
  
Shyly, she mumbled his name to wake him. But getting no response, the Turk gently reached her shaking arm out and shook his. He immediately reacted, raising his head and straightening himself out. He glanced up at her, the fatigue washing away his usual cold glare and she felt the inside of her stomach collapse on itself as she stared back. _God, he's gorgeous._ She blushed as his gaze ran up and down her nicely pressed Turk suit.  
  
But, as soon as he realized where he was, Rufus' icy wall shot up and he pulled himself closer to the table. Clearing his throat, still smooth as if nothing had happened, he pointed to the chair in front of him.  
  
Nervousness stumbled her over and she sat down, handing him the papers.  
  
"I-I've written them up, but there seems to be one issue that might n-not go over with the public that well, sir." She swallowed, waiting for his response.  
  
He circled his hand in a gesture for her to continue, "Yes?"  
  
"Apparently the, uh, crash killed a couple members of Avalanche and this is known. The public may question why the group would eliminate their own members - I...wasn't sure how you wanted me to deal with that."  
  
She fidgeted with the buttons on her tunic as she tried not to focus on his captivating azure eyes, or that adorable way he flicked the hair out of his eyes, or that enticing smell that emanated from across the desk...  
  
"Mmm." He mumbled, skimming over the paperwork and nodding. "I'll deal with that issue when they ask. For now, these are fine."  
  
She heard the finality in his voice and knew it was her cue to leave, but she wanted to stay in that office for the rest of her life. Play out her fantasies, kiss him again and again against that huge window overlooking the city, _make him want her like she wanted him_. She looked over the desk longingly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit up.  
  
Glancing up, he let out a puff of smoke. "You may go now, Elena."  
  
She nodded, unable to choke out any words and turned to leave. As she almost made it to the door, she heard him call her name. Turning around, she saw him staring at her.  
  
"You might want to head out to the Turk's Pub after work. You look a bit overstressed."  
  
-- 


	3. iii blurry memories

do note any errors and thank you very much.  
  
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**iii. blurry memory**  
  
In his usual chair, the Turk sat quietly sipping the contents of his pungent drink, the scent arising up and filling his sinus' with the familiarity of alcohol.  
  
_Another bloody day at work._  
  
It hadn't been life-threatening or anything out of the blue of office business, but the boredom of it all really brung the man down. To Rude, it was the same deal everyday. He never felt anything anymore. Working as a Turk for years, he'd lost his emotions during his first year. He could pick up his gun and shoot his best friend and not feel one ounce of remorse.  
  
He wondered about that as he took another sip from his drink, picturing his friend in his mind. The absent-minded, red haired chain smoker he'd learned to live with for several years felt like his brother now, and he wondered if he actually _felt_ the bond between the two or if it were just some illusion in his mind, replaying his past friendships that had been destroyed.  
  
He could probably never be sure. He sighed as he finished the drink, turning around and looking around the pub. He sat at his usual seat, the second barstool from the right and there were a few regular SOLDIER members gathered around the tables nearby. A usual night. Rude had been coming here after work so much that on the days he didn't, the bar didn't seem quite right to the tender.  
  
In truth, he was like a piece of furniture. He figured Reno would be in here soon since he'd mentioned he wanted a "good drink for once." Reno had been down lately about a certain lady...  
  
Rude heard the door open and close, interrupting his thoughts, and figured that was the man there, but when he turned to greet him he was met by a nicely pressed dark suit with a shock of blonde hair framing a pretty face. The figure walked toward him, the usual elegant smile on her lips now mauled into a depressed grim expression.  
  
"Elena?" He figured this was the first time in a long time he'd seen her here.  
  
She nodded and sat in the stool to his left, her posture slouched and she called the bartender over. After ordering a large drink, she turned to the man beside her. He was a bit shocked to see the happy, pretty new Turk so down now. _A bad day, perhaps_, even though it hadn't been her that was called up to the President's office.  
  
"What are you doing in this beer joint?"  
  
She shrugged and stared into the glass on the table in front of her. "There's nothing left to do in my empty apartment. I wanted a good drink for once." She paused again, wavering her glass in thought and Rude frowned and watched the sloshing liquid with her in silence as she gathered her thoughts. "Rude, do you know what it's like to love someone at the office and have them completely unaware?"  
  
A love problem. Not his area of expertise. He turned the other way and shook his head. "If you're talking about the lovely selection of women in the building, no." He swallowed, ignoring his tugging memories and looked back at her, glad for his dark sunglasses covering his exposed eyes. "You're a pretty lady, why can't you have this mystery man?"  
  
"He's too expensive."  
  
That rather gave it away, even if he hadn't known from her hungry glances and immediate silence in his presence. Rude sighed and finished the glass off, savoring the burn of straight liquor. "Listen, Elle, he may seem all-powerful and irresistible with his perfect rich-boy charm, but if he's anything like his father, he's someone to stay away from. And by the looks of things, he's much times worse."  
  
She was still staring at her untouched drink. She nodded, as if accepting his words and looked up at him, her deep blue eyes deep in thought, her well proportioned ruby lips trembling slightly, as if muttering small words and he thought to himself, _she really is beautiful. Ren-  
_  
"He fell asleep today, Rude."  
  
He raised an eyebrow, not seeing the connection to his previous statement.  
  
"He's just a kid, Rude. Just like me. How can he be so evil and malicious as everyone says he is? When he woke up, Rude, he let down his guard for a split second and he's just a frightened kid trying to take on the role of running the largest company in the world."  
  
The male Turk shook his head and leaned over his drink, wondering how it had re-filed. "As innocent as he seems, he doesn't have a good soul. He'd love to crush your heart and tear your innocence from you if he knew about your little infatuation. There are many people who would hate to see that happen to you, Elena..."  
  
The doors of the tavern opened loudly, hitting the wall beside them and falling back with a loud bang as the enterer ambled over to the two other Turks sitting by the stools. A cloud of smoke and a shock of red hair identified the man as the last Turk.  
  
_Right on time_, Rude thought suddenly.  
  
"Rude, Elena. How ya doin'." Reno's voice changing at Elena's name showed his surprise at her presence here. Pulling a nearby ashtray over, he tapped his ashes and hollered for the bartender.  
  
As the tender walked over with a glass he gave the three Turks a raised eyebrow and muttered sarcastically, "What is this, a work party? What'll you have, mate?"  
  
"Gimme some of your hard brew," Reno ordered, pointing at a barrel behind the counter. Crushing his cigarette he turned to Rude, "Lend me a fag, would ya? I'm fresh out."  
  
Rude shuffled through his suit pocket, surprised to find a full pack there. He didn't smoke often, and probably carried the damn smokes _for_ his friend since he ended up giving most to him anyway. Handing Reno the smoke, he noted his friend's sidelong glance at the lady beside him and he sighed, turning the other way.  
  
Is this where they all were, with their comfort aides? Reno, smoking up a storm. Elena, drowning in thoughts of her boss. And Rude, sitting over a full drink. He closed his eyes and tossed back the rest of the beverage. It had been at least his third, but he hadn't felt woozy or anything. After years of drinking, he had almost become immune to the substance. Along with the constant murdering of victims. Blackmailing. Shameless lying. Overused drugs. Looking at the young female beside him, it made him sigh to see how aged she looked staring at the drink in front of her, as though wishing she were drowning in it. In a few years, she would be as hard as a rock. _Like Scarlet..._  
  
-- 


	4. iv bittersweet ending

I rather like this chapter the best.  
  
**vi. bittersweet ending**  
  
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_.drink down your last swallow, boozer.  
  
_Scarlet...  
  
Throwing her hands down on the table where he sat at, her long painted nails hitting the surface with a brief click, the long familiar fingers he would so often slip his hands into cautiously, and so sneakily when no one was looking. Her soft green eyes, he so used to seeing staring at him in loving consideration, begging pleasure, or naughty glances at the office now screamed at him in fiery anger. Knocking the needle out of his hands, her soft mouth so usually speaking words of gentle praise, or slow moaning of agreement, now tightly spit fire at his hazy eyes.  
  
_"A lying, cheating, drug-usin' murderer, that's what you are!"_  
  
He really did try to get up, and out of the glued chair he was in, but his strength was lost in the hazy euphoria of the needle's potent effect. He supposed, lazily as he watched the red back of the dress spin on pointed heels, that he would have left long ago if he were the wearer of the dress.  
  
As the door slammed, closing a part of his life and a part of conscious mind, he slid to the floor, the glue holding him from the chair oozing down and over his face, running down like streams of hot water in the spring. He promised to himself he would never let this happen to himself again, never, never. The needle fell from his vein and smashed onto the floor into a million shards of glass. The quiet shatter from the syringe exploded in his mind, and all of a sudden everything went silent, save the relentless clomp clomp clomp of red spiked heels and a flicker of a lighter._  
  
-_  
  
_.light your last fuse, chimney._  
  
Reno let himself fall, hitting the sofa with nonchalant carelessness, the music and his eyes glazing over with inconsolable placidity. He could feel one of his moods coming on again, as he made no effort to rise from his slouched, lethargic poise on the beaten down coach in his apartment. Even his cigarette craving wouldn't budge him. He felt so...  
  
Had it been a few hours ago that he grabbed her, right there in the bar, right there in front of all the SOLDIER men and Rude and the bartender and kissed her? Combed his fingers through her soft blond hair and caressed her smooth velvet lips? Even in her drunken state and bumbling tears of rejection, had he pulled her head close to his and kissed her, furiously, passionately, and unlike all of his other affectionate recipients, really meant it when he said those three words?  
  
Yes, but then she said it.  
  
As the two young Turks hit the wall, a frenzy of hormones and pent up frustration allowing the affectionate exploitation, and then in a moan of uncontrollable outburst, she had actually said it.  
  
_"Rufus."_  
  
Hearing the name, his stomach had turned to a boiling _ice_. At his finest moment, even if it were in a drunken pub in the allies of Junon with a craving nicotine fix clawing at him, it was still with her, and it was still something he'd longed to do ever since he'd laid eyes on her. And that little brat had come and ruin it again.  
  
Her touch had been acid after that, him pushing her away and somehow it was like he was climbing glass stairs and every time he would finally make it to the top, Rufus Shinra was standing there, snow-clad and covered in ice - ready to kick him back down. What, he would fall back sixty floors and land on the cold, muddy ground of Midgar again? _Makes me laugh._  
  
As he lay there in languid pain, his PHS rang in his suit, a loud ring breaking the silence of the room with beeping intervals. Reno, uncaring for the caller barely heard the device, but something made him think. _If it were Elena?_ Hope cluing to his chest, but it was simply discarded by the thought she would never call him, and especially after the incident in the bar.  
  
Closing his eyes, blocking out the angry tears choking his lungs and the pounding headache, he pulled out a cigarette, lit up and watched as the smoke filled the room in front of his eyes. _Block it out, all out, maybe I'll smoke away the night..._  
  
-  
  
_.cry me a river, gold-digger._  
  
Sobbing, Elena angrily slammed the phone down, her last hope unanswered. She turned the amps of the volume louder, despising the sound of her own desolate voice. And even through the sound of synthesizers and MIDI boards flooding the apartment 120 beats per minute, she could still hear herself thinking.  
  
_I am a Turk, for Christ's sake._  
  
What was she thinking, walking in the pub intent on getting rip roaring drunk? Stumbling home to some deprived SOLDIER's dingy barracks with a wife waiting at home in Nibelheim _wasn't_ going to make her feel any better, certainly not with the rumours that would have been spread around faster than the newest member at the Honeybee Inn.  
  
And at that moment when she'd realized it _wasn't_ Rufus after all, she'd opened up her mouth and she'd uttered the one person who had been giving her everything _but_ gratitude. And she had ruined it all. _Wasn't wasn't wasn't doing her any good._  
  
_I'm sorry...  
I didn't realize...  
Come back..._  
  
Useless thoughts, useless pleads. She couldn't stop the tears from flowing down her face, pooling into the boiling hot coffee that she had brewed in hopes to calm down her sobering headache. Every time she thought of the messy red hair, the common lewd jokes in the lobby, his habit of lateness, it all added to her weeping lament. And the more she cried, the angrier she got.  
  
_I am a Turk. I should be strong, unemotional like Rude, uncaring like Reno and cruel like Rufus. not like this. Not like this. I am not a Turk._  
  
Despair and disgust at herself pulled her to the floor, and focused her eyes on an item that had fallen with a beat, almost blending in with the fast paced beats of the deafening music. It's long, black barrel lined up with a tile on the floor, making an L-shape with the corners and she stared at the weapon for a long time, her tears stopped but the slag water still blurring her vision. She almost didn't believe it was laying there, until Elena touched her belt where the gun holder was empty.  
  
_"Look, this used to be Tseng's heater. Don't ask how I got it, just keep it safe."_ Reeve, her first day.  
  
She was suddenly brought back to her lesson on guns.  
  
_"Now listen, if the gun aint on safe, it's much easy to go off at any given time - so during serious cases, keep the damn thin' pointed to the ground.  
"Hit yer trigger and it releases the hammer, and the hammer strikes the powder causin' an explosion. This blasts your metal slug, here, off the open end'a the shell and the explodin' poweder flies out the barrel of the gun, naturally focusing rocketing slug into your target."  
  
"And always, always keep your gun on you and loaded as a Turk."_  
  
Somehow Elena was standing and thinking about the simple mechanics of the pistol, staring down the hollow barrel, staring down, _down, down_, and somehow her fingers wrapped around the slight trigger, the lesson playing over and over in her mind.  
  
_I'm sorry Reno. I love you._  
  
And somewhere, in the midst of Sector 6 in an apartment across the Loveless theatre, through trance blasted music you could hear a young woman's scream followed by a very quiet ping if you were so inclined.  
  
--  
  
Ah, that's a shame. I know rather drastic.  
So, what do you think?


End file.
